The Mint Patch Monologue

Tag: food

  • Te amo

    “All you have to do is write 1 true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.” Ernest Hemingway

    On an uninspiring February weekend I turned towards the greats for some direction. Although not favored by all I love the story of Hemingway’s swashbuckling life and his writing. What is the truest sentence I know, I wonder, and who is my true self. The truest thing I know, besides what I have come to understand about love, is what happens if you plant a seed. The knowledge and ability of Mother Nature and her natural world could never mislead us, even in her harshness she has been honest. Truer things are those that appeal to the senses, the smell of the lilac and the sound of the cello. These offerings are sacred, they ring the same bells as the libraries, museums, national parks, and theaters. During a time of such distrust going on in our world, I’ll remind you of where to find the truth. It’s at the bottom of a steaming bowl of salty chicken noodle soup, enjoyed beneath the soft weight of an old quilt. It’s in the attempts to speak Spanish with your local Mexican servers who brings you rounds of chips and salsa, and fat margaritas, the goodness of sharing culture. There is truth that the heart benefits when we accept people that are different than us, diversity is healthy for the human ecosystem, just as it is for the wolves in the wild.

    We can see hatred on the faces of the hateful, their expressions curled into ugliness over time comes to the surface so they can’t hide forever. Those folks are not the sacred ones, instead listen for the voices of Mr. Rogers and the characters from Sesame Street, watch John Candy inspire Olympic athletes to finish the race, or find the picture of the Kentucky Governor posing with drag queens because he believes that ALL of us are children of God. I think I saw the truest sentence ever this weekend in bold letters above the performing stage of the Super Bowl “the only thing more powerful than hate is love.” The trueness of this sentence is freedom, how free we all are to decide who we’re gonna spend our lives being, and a warning of the power of hate and the destruction it can lead to.

    May this lend a flutter of hope into your hearts the way the Latin American culture has fluttered within my heart tonight.

    Please, reach out because I DO love to chat!

    readnwrite11@gmail.com

  • Late Blueberries, cupcakes, and Frankenstein

    I’m settling into the pace of October, finally. Picture me- arms outstretched, flat on my back under the peach tree, leaves slowly trickling down through the 3pm sunlight, nothing to do but eat blueberries and savor the season. That’s an altered truth, I have lots to do. The grass is cold, a nice contrast to the hot, illuminating sun. The fireball in the sky is such a mystery, how fortunate we are on planet Earth for its warmth, its light, and its perfect distance. An afternoon spent thinking about the universe is enough to occupy a busy mind. I imagine floating in space and feeling weightless, held gently in peaceful wisdom among ancient stardust; sounds delightful when the common noise of life gets too loud. Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat Pray Love reminds us that silent stillness is the true religion. How could anyone hear that guiding voice over the chaos and chatter of daily life? Are you familiar with this voice? The one that whispers, “You’re alright, keep trying.” The one that steadies you. Sometimes I hear it when I’m weaving through the trees on a woods trail, sometimes it rings me like bell when I’m least expecting it, reminding me to listen more often. I finished off the whole pint of blueberries, staring high into the sky while daydreaming of Saturn’s rings and Jupiter’s moons. Our own moon, Luna, seems like it might be a nice place to visit. She is always watching us, her patterns are curious, and when I see her silver face among the blue sky in the afternoon I think… well hello there. She says to me “don’t forget, we are all stardust, and you are on a planet speeding though outer space- no need to sweat the small things.” She certainly brings to mind the big picture, the miracle that we are alive, and suggests simple pleasures like eating all of the blueberries and sometimes chocolate cupcakes too!

    A birthday calls for a homemade treat, and this month our nephew celebrated his 23rd lap around the sun. There is no such thing as making the right amount of cupcakes, and Chris followed that rule this week, too many is just enough. The other rules: butter instead of oil, milk instead of water, and always add an extra egg. He is a wizard at satisfying a sweet tooth, never skimps, always adds a thoughtful touch and takes his time to make things special. After the first frost of the season I’ll make my first request for his homemade hot chocolate; if there were a contest for best hot chocolate I would enter him in, with all my money down.  According to Chris there is only one way to eat a cupcake, you must first rip the cake in two and move the bottom half to the top, creating a cupcake sandwich. Smooth. I, on the other hand, prefer to make the big-bite-face, to risk icing up the nose… to make that mess. The universe says “don’t take life too seriously.”
     

    Onto my book of the month, a clever choice (or so I thought) Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. Another classic from the list, intended to enhance my ability to enjoy the long unfolding of an intricate story. I’m  3 quarters of the way through and nearly  heartbroken. What I thought would be a spooky thriller turned out to be one of the saddest tales I’ve ever known. Shame on that Frankenstein for letting his selfish experiment outweigh his humanity. I’m hoping for a justified ending; anyone caught this Halloween dressed in a green mask with neck bolts might just get a mouthful from me on the harshness of isolation and judgement, bless that monster’s heart.

    “The wounded deer dragging its fainting limbs to some untrod-den brake, there to gaze upon the arrow which had pierced it, and to die- was but a type of me.”

    Humanity comes to mind as I reflect on the situation in this novel. The monster spent such time alone, in silent stillness that even a beast brought to life from madness without nurturing, without meaningful and mutual connection, still felt empathy and even wept for others’ misfortunes. None of us should ever take for granted a friendly ear, a neighborly gesture, or a warm invitation for conversation. And if you are missing those in your own life, I am here for you through this grand advance called the internet. I hope these posts keep you company during your harsh times and your cold nights, I hope you get a cupcake soon too. I do read my messages often, and will delightfully respond to you. Until next time, thank you for reading!

    Don’t forget to drop a line, I DO love to chat!

    justicesarah67@yahoo.com